


The Third Rule

by Gone_with_a_thought



Series: The Rules of Letterkenny [1]
Category: Letterkenny (TV)
Genre: Autistic Wayne!, Blink and you'll miss it, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Homophobic Language, M/M, Not super heavy on the Darry and Wayne train, dont fuck with Darry, how the fuck did it get this far, i dont even know man, i stand by it though, moderate fluff, some not nice things get mentioned, super soft feelings, this was supposed to be a little one shot, un-beta'd, wayne is a drama queen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2020-01-23 01:37:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18539644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gone_with_a_thought/pseuds/Gone_with_a_thought
Summary: Do not under any circumstances fuck with Darry.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Letterkenny fic, and the first fic in a long while, so have a little mercy if you hate it. This is unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine. 
> 
> The homophobic language appears a few times, but they get what's coming to them.

There were three rules in Letterkenny that everybody followed, no matter what. Well there used to be only two, 'cept that was before Wayne could walk and once he got past that clumsy waddle and learned what his fists were for the third rule got added pretty quickly. See folks had been living in this town since the first great potato famine in Ireland, and quickly established the type of mannerisms one needed to survive in a farming community in the fucking Canadian boonies. 

1.) When a man asks for help, you help him. In a farming town as small as Letterkenny, relying on your neighbors was a necessity if you wanted to last more than a season. Plus, no one likes a Pricky Patrick. 

 

2.) Bad gas travels fast in a small town, so don't fuckin spread any. It ain't right but one bad rumor can ruin a man faster than buck all. Long as no one is gettin' hurt then it's not your business so who fucking cares. 

 

3.) Do not under any circumstances fuck with Darry. (It used to be do not under any circumstances fuck with Katy and Darry, but round the time Katy hit puberty people had learned pretty quick that Wayne would beat shit out of you but Katy would rip you apart with her teeth all while smiling a smile that brings grown men to their knees).

 

Now thats not to say that Darry can't take care of himself, cause he can and there aint no one else Wayne rather have beside him in a scrap than his best buddy, but everybody with half a damn brain cell knew that Wayne had a - well its not a soft spot cause he's never been soft in his fucking life- but a weak point when it came to Darry. 

 

They'd been inseparable since grade school, back when neither of them even reached halfway up a full grown corn stalk and had the knobby knees and elbows to prove it. Some asshole had be hecklin' Wayne when he was having what his Mamma called a fit. The world was too loud and bright, there was just to much and everyone was asking him questions that he wanted to answer, he really did but the words just wouldn’t- 

 

Anyway, one minute the fuckin degen had been calling Wayne a 'fucking sally' (so fuckin original) and the whirlwind that was a young Darry had knocked him on his ass so hard he lost a tooth and needed stitches. Then he sat down right next to Wayne, drawing pictures in the dirt and not sayin a word till Wayne did - to ask Darry if he wanted to help pick stones on the farm after school- and that had been that. 

 

Two weeks later the same asshat kid cornered Darry in an alley by the Dollar Store and beat him bloody. Wayne took one look at Darry's face all fucked up and bloated at his kitchen table, valiantly fighting back tears as Mamma wrapped his broken hand and made a decision. He called in the Thompson twins and McMurray and found the little shit and all his little shit friends. McMurray barely got one hit in cause Wayne had singlehandedly knocked the ever living fuckin snot out of five Grade 6 boys on pure fury alone. It had been the start of his life-long reign as the Toughest Guy in Letterkenny. 

 

It had also given birth to the third rule. 

 

Since then, it became a reoccurring theme. If you fucked with Darry, you'd be getting two beatings- cause despite his sweet baby face and generally sunny attitude Darry was a fucking powerhouse when he got going- and then Wayne would find you later on an make you wish you had never stepped a fuckin toe in his town. 

 

The third rule didn't count for everything now, cause thats just silly. If Darry lost a fair and square scrap then Wayne won't do nothing more than scoop him up afterwards and get him hammered back at the farm. But if there was any sort of butt fuckery at play then all previous rules are null and goddamn void. 

 

It had taken all of two years for the whole community to understand the third rule. The deciding factor happened back when Wayne'n'Darry were 16 and still 'daisy fresh' as his Gran called it. Most of the older kids knew the rule, had been fucking abiding by it for years now, and the adults didn't have reason to care so it wasn't much of a problem.

Then Darry had snuck into his room at butt-fuck-o'clock in the middle of September. He was crying and panicked and beggin' Wayne not to hate him - as if Wayne was even capable of not loving Darry- and stumbled out the story. Old Jacob had caught Darry and his son Lil' Jake rutting up against the side of the barn pert near two hours before. He'd taken a swing at Darry's head with metal pipe that had been lyin' near by all while screaming that he was going to let the whole town what a "good for nothing, cocksucker of a fucking fag, out here corrupting regular boys" Darry was. Wayne had never been so good with words, had let his eyebrows and hands to do the talking, and had never felt so inadequate before in his life. So he did the only thing he knew how to. Bundled Darry up in a rare hug and tucked him into his bed, making a point to not to treat him a lick different than he always had, like it didn't bother him one bit that Darry had been mixing a batch with someone other than – well, it's almost not worth thinking about. 

Wayne got into more fights in the following three weeks than he ever had in his whole life. It also got him into a shitton of trouble with his Pa cause Old Man Jacob had been at the school the next week. The bastard had been screaming at the top of his lungs so loud the whole building could hear it, goin' on an on about removing Darry from the same class as his son cause he was a "danger to the community, it just aint right for my son to hafta'b in the same room as that cocksucker". Darry had just looked at the ground, so fuckin sad and so fuckin resigned to his fate, and told Wayne 

"S'alright buddy, why don't you eat with Katy today? Shouldn't be caught up in my shit storm" like abandoning Darry was something that Wayne should be considering, like the thought of not being with Darry hadn't closed his throat up so tight he pert near couldn't breath with it chokin' him. Wayne had gently cuffed him upside the head with a soft "figger it out jesus Dar" and walked straight into the headmaster's office. He'd hit his growth spurt that summer, so he had to duck down under the door a bit, and caught Old Jacob right across the mouth in a clumsy sucker that had cleaned his clock damn near all the way. Wasn't his proudest moment, hittin' an old man no matter how fucked he was, but the message was clear. Wayne might not feel great about it later, but he wasn’t afraid to tussle with anyone and everyone who thought they could hurt Darry. 

 

Wayne's Pa had sat him down at the table that night, told him loud and clear that while Old Jacob needed an ass-kicking, Wayne should'a come to him ya see, and now his Pa had to tan his hide cause he can't let something like this slide. Wayne, in typical fashion, had nodded once, taken the skinning, and shook his Pa's hand afterward. That had been that. 

 

The rest was all pitter patter, and the third rule had been in place so long that people now couldn't remember a time when it wasn't common place.  
________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

After Rosie, Wayne finally got his shit together, gave his balls tug, and got together with Darry. Nobody said two words about it when Wayne showed up with him as his sweetie for the St. Patrick’s day party, and whether its cause they didn’t care or were too fuckin chicken shit to say anything dont matter. Long as they keep their mouths shut Wayne could give fuck all what they think. 

At the very least no one hits on Darry at Modean's in front of Wayne no more, not that he could ever blame 'em with the way Dar looks out of his barn clothes; all dressed up with curls that are as soft as they look. 

Nothing had really changed now that they were sweeties, cept that Darry now slept curled up like a new kitten under Wayne's arm or the fact that chorin' took a little bit longer than it shouldve on days when Darry got hot enough to tie his coveralls round his waist, and the sweat made his shirt cling to his skin like it was fuckin glued on- well, not much had changed and what had was Texas size 10-4 improvement. 

_______________________________________________________________________________________________ 

 

July had been a hot fucking month, the kind where the you couldn’t escape the sun no matter how hard you tried, and today was no better. Even the animals had enough of the sun's shit and refused to leave safety of the shade for anything less than the promise of the barn. Wayne’s been in a weird mood all week, not exactly irritated so much as real uneasy, but he ain’t one to fuss so he had just kept his mouth shut and got on with it.

 

There were harsh storm clouds hanging just on the edge of town that didnt do much but sit there and get nice an fat. He had sent Katy and the boys into town to get thick tarps, on account of the shitty weather and with the bribe of getting hammered afterwards. Yesterday, the main trailer they used to haul hay from the field to the barn had busted a wheel halfway down the fuckin lane, too far for them to haul the hay back by themselves, and the goddamn part’s store was closed till Monday, so the tarps would have to serve to keep the hay dry during the storm. 

 

For next two hours he didnt even think about it. Town was a twenty minute drive at minimum, and while Squirelly Dan was the best damn haggler Wayne had ever known, the old coot who ran the general store with their tarps was a wily bastard himself and haggling could take a half hour at-least. 

 

Wayne had just slipped into a fresh shirt when he heard the truck pull up the property, pinched his wrist cuffs till they snapped tight; thought about maybe swinging Darry around the dance floor later that night, thought about falling into bed together in the wee hours of the morning, just breathing slowly in each others space, till the alarm went off and there was chorin’ to do.  
He stepped out on to the porch to see Katy and Squirelly Dan scrambling down out of the cab, saw the blue of those dirty fuckin’ coveralls -Jesus H. he needs to bully Darry into washing those things- caught a glimpse of those curls and promptly feels the world dip out from underneath him. 

 

He had seen Darry in all sorts ways after scraps, seen him lose teeth, break bones, bleed and sweat in a way that only fightin’ can cause. It was never too scary cause Darry always got back up, always had a comment or a stupid fuckin joke to make. This time is different. This time he thinks for one horrible fucking moment that Darry is dead. His heads listing on Dan’s shoulder, completely limp as he bleeds from –well fucking jesus as he bleeds from fucking everywhere fucking christ where isn’t he hurt- and Wayne’s moving ‘fore he even knows hes done it. He gets his shoulder under Dar’s and an arm round his waist and tries not to look as he and Dan haul him into the house. Katy’s already there, with a sheet on the couch, water startin’ to boil, and every medical kit they’ve owned since childhood stacked on the small end-table near it. 

 

Wordlessly, Wayne situates Darry on the couch; smooths his boots from his feet, peels the coveralls from his front down to his waist, and gets to work cleaning up his sweetie. Between the three of them, it takes pert near an hour to clean him up. Dan strips Darry down to his underthings, props his feet up on a pillow like his ma taught him too. Katy helps Wayne clean the blood from his face and hair, not complaining a lick when Wayne wipes his face one time too many, even when there’s no blood left to clean. 

None of them say a fucking word. 

 

He sets his cloth down and Katy takes her cue to leave, dragging Dan out with her to the kitchen. Wayne takes the gift for what it is, presses his forehead to Dar’s and tries to breath deep. He had hoped that half the damage to Darry’s face was the blood itself. Head wounds bleed like a stuck pig, and cause as much fuss as one too, make things look ten times worse than they actually were. So he hoped. But all he found underneath the blood was a litany of bruising, purples, blacks, and reds staining his lover’s face, swelling his eye shut and damn near split his top lip in half. He cleans Darry’s hands one last time, and feels a surge of uncontrollable pride looking at the bruises and cuts on Dar’s knuckles. Who ever hurt him hadn’t gotten away easy, an would probably be showing it too. 

Good, Wayne thinks viscously, they’ll be that much easier to find. 

He presses a small kiss to Darry’s forehead, right below his curls, and breathes deep. Tucks the blanket round him tight, leaves the light on so if he wakes suddenly, he’ll know where he’s at. 

 

Sitting in the kitchen are Katy and Dan, passing a bottle of Gus’n’Bru back and forth like it’s the last damn bottle in the world. They both look shaken. Dan is paler than piss free snow, staring at the table like it’ll change a fucking thing. Katy looks unruffled, ‘cept for the eyeliner she hasn’t fixed yet and her hands that shook all through cleaning up Dar. She hands the bottle to him with out a word when he sits down, and no one looks at Darry’s empty seat. 

“Start talking” Wayne spits, takes a breath and says “Please and thank you” afterword, cause while he’s never been so pissed off in his entire life, Ma would come back from the grave and slap him silly for being so rude. 

Katy and Dan look at each other and then look away. Neither of them will meet his eyes. Alrighty then. 

“Pitter fuckin Patter” he growls, patience already stretched past the breaking point.

Katy, ever the brave one, looks away from the wall and meets his gaze head on. Takes a breath, a sip of Puppers, and says 

“It was the Hall’s boys”

Wayne sucks in air and tries to not lose it. The Hall’s boys are three degens from upcountry that used to live in Letterkenny, till their Ma died and their Pa sold the farm. Moved them all up north to the city for work and a fresh start. They started comin’ back round last fall, not an ounce of hick left in ‘em, causing all sorts of fuckin problems and chirpin bout it all the while. Wayne beat the shit out of all three them last bush party season for being disrespectful to- well to fucking everyone, but especially to Katy and Bonnie McMurray. At the time, that had been that. He thought it was over and done months past.

 

He stands fucking corrected. 

 

Squirelly Dan starts up this time, having gathered his courage in front of Wayne’s thunderous face. He’s squinting so hard that all he can see are slits between lashes, and his jaw’s tight enough to crack bone. 

 

“Wells yous sees Wayne, I wents intos the store to haggles with Mr. Murphy bouts the prices of the tarps, and Daryl chooses to stays in the trucks with Miss Katys cause Murphys don’t likes him too much. So me and Murphys are hagglings somethings fierce for pert near thirty minutes when I hears a bigs comotions outsides. So thinkings it may be the skids or degens from upcountry, me’s and Murphys runs outside readies to do somes damage when I sees the Halls boys nears the truck. Theres a persons in the middles getting wailed on’s and since I don’t sees Darry, I do’s the maths and realizes whats happenings. So myselfs and Murphy are runnings and hollerings at this points, and Miss Katys had just hoofed the middle kids right in the coin purse whens they sees me and Murphys running ups. They scattered likes roaches, Wanyes, I swear to ya I trieds to grabs em ‘fore they ran off.”

 

There’s a moment of silence, and then Wayne looks at Dan and reassures- 

 

“I know ya did Squirelly Dan, I don’t blame ya for not catching the fucks”

 

Dan takes a deep breath, swipes a hand through his hair and slugs the mostly empty Gus’n’Bru. Katy stands, grabs the two emergency bottles from under the sink, and sits backs down. She takes three deep gulps and lays it out for Wayne. 

Dan had gone into the store to haggle, leaving her and Darry in the truck to wait it out. There was still some sun left in the day, so Katy had climbed in to the bed to soak it in and Darry had followed, not wanting to have a dart in the cab and leave a smell. Everything was about as you’d expect it, just the normal crowds at the normal times, and no one bothered them as Dan worked his magic inside. Till the Hall boys show up, tearing the gravel up from the parking lot like anyone gave a fuck about their car or the shit music blasting from it. They go mostly ignored, till they start hollering at Katy. Apparently, they remember who her brother is, and have decided to give her and Darry a time. Katy’s aint no stranger to disrespectful assholes, and handles them as she usually does, with a grace and brutality Wayne truly envies. ‘Cept this time it’s real nasty, the kind that Daryl can’t let go on account of it being so inappropriate and well, it’s Katy, whose been a sister to him since she was a tot. The type of shit they were sayin’ couldn’t be left unpunished.

So Darry, being smarter than most give him credit for, asks Katy to go grab Dan from the store, cause while hes a damn good scraper, he knows when he’s out numbered. What they didn’t know is that the Hall boys were meeting with some friends, and two of the friends were waiting near the front of the truck in case they tried to make a run for it. 

 

The two by the front grab Katy as Darry knocks the first brother out cold. Now, their Pa was a fair man and taught Katy to fight the same way he taught Wayne, though where Wayne had rules of engagement- #1 don’t hit a man while he’s down- Katy was taught to be as mean as coyote and twice as smart. So Katy knocks the fuckin tar outta the degen holdin her arms behind her back, and breaks the second one’s face. She turns to check Darry’s progress and sees him getting the hell beat in to ‘em. Three boys are holding him against the truck while the oldest Hall brother pounds into his face. Wayne feels that strange pride again, cause as Katy tells it, Darry is still fighting to be free despite the beatin’ and it takes all three fuckers to hold him down, and even then they’re struggling. 

Katy, being the only person Wayne knows with nuts of pure fucking brass, walks right up to the kid pounding on Darry’s face and hoof’s the fuck so hard he spits right there in the parking lot. She rounds on the other assholes just as Dan and Mr. Murphy come racing out the store, and they scatter. 

 

Katy stops, takes a gulp of Puppers, and says 

“Thats not all.”

Wayne had been halfway outta his chair, headed towards the door with a plan to scoop McMurray and Joint Boy up and show those fucking used shit stains what real damage looks like. The tone in Katy’s voice stops him though. It’s cautious, like he’s a wild animal ready to attack at any moment. 

 

He listens as she relays word for word what they were saying to Darry as they hurt him. Wayne’s mentioned a lot, or moreover, Wayne’s dick is mentioned a lot along with the words “cocksucking”, “slutty faggot”, and “you’d just be begging for it huh?”  
So Wayne sits back down, not saying a word, and thinks. Normally, Dan, Joint Boy, McMurray, and Tyson would put out word on the grapevine, find the fucks, and then beat the shit out of them and call it square.

 

This is different. This was a personal attack on two people he loves more than anything else on this fucking planet. They attacked his family because of him.

 

He needs a different plan this time round. 

 

"Here’s the scoop and Im gonna tell ya“.  
________________________________________________________________________________________________

Darry wakes up around 3 am, swinging his arms like he’s still fighting. His knees hit the floor with a dull thud, wide eyed and panting till he sees Wayne, mostly out of the arm chair he’d been sitting in since Katy and Dan went to bed. The relief on his sweeties face makes something warm and tight curl up in Wayne’s chest, makes it hard to think or speak, so he does neither. Instead, he helps Dar off the floor and holds him tight, the two of ‘em just standing there and clinging like the fucking softies they really are. 

 

Dar’s breathing kinda heavy, but Wayne had already checked his rib cage so he knows it more to do with feelings than somethin physical. Theres a wet spot growing near his neck, so Wayne pulls back a bit to cup Dar’s face. 

 

There are tears there, but Wayne’s known Darry well enough to know that it’s got nothing to do with fear and everythin’ to do with anger and shame. He's clearly workin’ himself up to say something, so Wayne lets him, just holds his face and strokes behind his ear till Dar’s ready. 

 

He starts and stops real sudden a few times, before finally choking out  
“Fuck I tried, but -” and “there were fucking four of them the goddamn bastards, too yellow bellied to fight me man on man”.  
Wayne’s never been a liar, not even when it’d be easier than the truth, and he ain’t going to start now, so when he says “The fucks knew you woulda won if they hadn’t”, Dar knows he well and truly means it. 

 

Still, it doesn’t take the sting away and it doesn’t make it any better, and it sure as shit doesn’t heal Dar’s face. 

 

Wayne hands him the bottle of Gus’n’Bru, or whats left of it, and watches the line of Dar’s throat as he finishes it off. They head up on to bed, and if Wayne’s walking a little closer than normal or if Dar quieter than normal, neither of them mention it.  
When it came to sleeping habits, Wayne’s always been a bit of a cuddle bug. His Ma used to say bed time was the only time he’d feel safe enough to enjoy it, and like always she wasn’t wrong. They’ve always been tactile in the bedroom, but tonight theres a different air to it. He wants to mold his body to Dar’s, tuck him up nice and tight inside his chest where Wayne can keep him safe. 

Not that Darry needs it, but maybe Wayne does. 

 

Darry’s runnin his fingers over Wayne’s smooth knuckles, and fuck if Wayne don’t feel compelled to say “I didn’t go after ‘em tonight. We’re doing somethin different this time”. 

 

Dar doesn’t answer him besides a “Glad you were here when I woke up”.  
________________________________________________________________________________________________  
It takes a total of five days to get everything put together. Wayne half expected it to take a few weeks but he was violently reminded how ruthless Katy could be when you piss her off enough. Looks like jumping her and Dar with the intention of beatin’ them senseless had done the trick. Fuck, most of the town seemed in on it when the day rolled around. 

See originally Wayne had planned to damn near kill them, teach them and all their shit head buddies a lesson about fucking with the wrong people. But after to talking to Dar, and a few secret meetings with Katy, the plan changed. 

Darry had been real down the past couples of days, not that they coulda blamed him. At first Wayne thought it had just been pride, but Darry had eventually spilled his guts ‘bout what they said they were fixing to do to Katy after they’d took care of him. He felt like he’d failed, that he somehow let Wayne an her down by not being able to shake three grown men off him while gettin’ his face smashed in. 

 

Wayne had given him a hummer right there and then behind the fuckin’ produce stand to show Darry what he thought of that line of thinking. Dar had seen it his way after that. 

 

It was a balmy Wednesday night when Gail called to say that the Hall boys and their buddies were at Modeans, causing a fucking ruckus and none the wiser. He had grabbed Darry, kissed him hard, and then smushed him into the truck bed with Dan.

 

The drive itself was only just shy of a half hour, but to Wayne it felt like months. He wanted their blood on his hands and he wanted it fucking yesterday. 

 

They pull up, and let Dan, Joint Boy, and Kat hop out the truck. Wayne lights a dart, for once not given a care about the smell it’ll leave, and only gives a small uptick of his mouth when Darry climbs into the cab and raises an eyebrow. He sees Katy snap her fingers at the two nutsacks whose names Wayne resolutely refuses to learn. She looks back at him, nods, and thats that.  
He starts driving, just hums when Darry straight asks him whats going on and grabs his hand. Wayne would die before every admitting it, but the feel of Dar rubbing his knuckles with a thumb, whole and mostly ok, was pert near as good as life could get. 

 

They get to the spot, pull over off the road, and climb into the bed to stretch their legs. Wayne produces the hidden bottle of Gus’N’Bru that he'd stashed for this here occasion, and for a long while all they do is pass it back and forth. 

“Whatcha up too bud?” Eventually spills out again, and Wayne smirks nice and slow like the shit eater he is. 

 

“Hmmmm?”

 

“Cut the buttfuckery, you’ve got somethin’ planned and I think I got the right to know what it is."

 

“Well it has come to my attention that you’ve been a nasty slump there Dar, and there aint much we can do about it till some things get sorted."

Wayne glances over, Darrys got a face on like he sucked on a lemon. Mouth set in a line, his good eye scrunched up, the fading bruises stark against his hair. 

“Not sure its something you can fix big shoots” Its spoken softly, like he didn’t mean to say in the first place. 

Headlights hit Wayne right in the face, right on time, and Wayne makes a mental note to thank Katy nice and proper cause fuck knows what he’d do without her. 

 

“That’s a texas size 10-4 there Dar, but you can.”

 

The truck screeches to a stop, headlights still blindin’ and the Halls boys stumble out the back like baby deer- ungraceful and stone drunk. 

 

Katy and Dan follow behind them, while the two fuckwads Katys dating stay behind the truck. They spread out, trapping the laughing fucks between the trucks.

 

The look on their faces when the nutsacks see whose waiting for ‘em will keep Waynes balls warm all fucking winter.

 

Dar just sucks in a breath, looks at Wayne for a long moment, eyebrows raised to his hairline. Wayne grins, well its more like the corner of his mouth turns up, but Dar always understands. The smile he gets in return is fuckin blinding, like the sun rose in the middle of the night with no warning; warm and illuminating like a miracle. 

 

The fight itself take no time at all. Dar swigs the whiskey, and knocks the oldest Hall brother to the ground in one punch. The other two rush forward, which thank fuck Wayne was really hopin they would gave him a reason to jump in. He goes after the middle brother, Connor or Collin or who really gives a fuck what the nutsacks name is. He was the chripin’ homophobe last time, and someone shoulda taught him a long time ago that running your trap was a sure fire way to getting it broken. Waynes more than willing to teach him that lesson. 

 

Dar is still tussling with the oldest brother, but its clear that Dar is drawing it out. Waiting for him to get back up just so he can beat his face in again. Normally, Wayne’d scoop him back, let him breathe through the rage till he was clear headed but this is a special circumstance so he just watches until the fucker doesn’t get back up again. 

 

Dar spits at his feet, looks at the only brother still conscious kneeling on the dirt, looking like he’s bout to piss himself right then and there. He hauls the fuck up by his shirt, slams him against the truck and says “I ever see your fucking faces anywhere near Letterkenny again, you’ll have’ta get a doctor to remove your nutsack from your throat.” 

 

The degens got tears in his eye, swears up an down they wont ever come here again and won't tell a soul. 

 

Dar snarls, looks half feral with his face all fucked and dirty, “No, youre gonna tell everyone, anyone who fucking asks, that a couple fags beat you so bad your fucking mother feels it.” 

 

With that he walks back to Wayne, takes a pull from the bottle and nods. They hop in, Katy and Dan in the cab while Wayne and Dar ride in the back, with that stupid fucking Jeep following along. They leave the Hall boys there, bleeding and broken in the dirt. Wayne thinks about them climbing into their truck in whenever they drag themselves up, turning the key for an engine full of sugar and wonders how long it’ll take them to find the raw shrimp stuffed into the muffler. He hopes is a few days at least. 

 

Modeans is still in full swing when they get back, and the chorus of greetings when they walk in settles like a blanket over Wayne. He knocks shoulders with Dar as they sit at the bar. 

 

Gail sets a round in front of them, slamming the Puppers down and running her hands down her front in a way only Gail can make uncomfortable. 

 

“Gail, how are ya now?”

 

“Good an you?”

 

“Oh not so bad”

 

“I bet big shooter, heard you handled business real nasty this time”

 

“Oh yeah, we gaves those fucking turds a real pounding” Dan interjects. Wayne tries not to sigh at what he knows is coming next.

Gail looks like someone gifted her a naked Ryan Reynolds covered in butter.

 

“I know a few things the could use a good pounding, might get a little slippery though” Jesus who knew her tongue could bend like that “on account of all hip you’d be throwing.” 

 

“Hard no” Wayne says and tries to ignore Dar’s snort. 

 

“Nutsacks had it comin’, breaking the third rule and all.” 

 

Katy chokes on her beer and Dan quits breathin for pert near a minute. The thing about the third rule is that its an unspoken rule. A thing that’s quietly understood without making a fuss and causing no problems. Darry would be fucking insufferable if he knew, he always is when Wayne makes his softer feelings obvious, the little shit. Darrys never had a problem with showin his feelings, never seen the point in hiding them and thrives under praise. Wayne is not that type of man, he’s not comfortable showing his vulnerable underbelly, so Dar absolutely loves seeing proof it exists. If he learns about the third rule, there’ll be no living with him.

 

“Oh its almost not worth talking about” comes out a bit harsher than he intends, but hes panicking. 

 

The conversation flows and he forgets about it under the booze and the warmth of the bar.

 

Well till about four hours latter when Dar leans over, his mouth hot and damp against Wayne’s ear, and whispers  
“Reckon its about time I showed my appreciation, ya know?”

 

A raised eyebrow is all he gets in return, cause Wayne knows Dar better than anyone and hes has a feelin this isnt about to go his way. 

 

“Oh, just for all the shit I’ve gotten away with on account of the third rule and all. Mrs. McMurray spilled the beans five years ago Super Chief, said I was the safest person in this town, said not even the Natives would test it out.” 

 

 

Fuck a duck. 

 

______________________________________________________________________________________________ 

 

A duck actually doesn’t get fucked, but Wayne sure as shit does. If this is how Darry shows his appreciation then Wayne’s gonna have to invest in some good sound proofing cause Katy’ll kill them both before the week is up. 

 

 


	2. Note

I wanted to say thank you to everyone who has commented and left kudo's on the Third Rule. When I first wrote this it was in the back of my best friends Ecology class, and was just a daydream I played around with because I loved the idea of a super soft Wayne. I never dreamed of the kind response everyone has given this. 

 

Life has really kicked my ass this past year, and I wasnt able to respond to your comments the way I wanted too, but seeing a new one or rereading previous ones were bright spots in a lot of dark times and kept my head up. So I can not thank you all enough and probably owe everyone my first born. 

 

I also wanted to say that I've posted a companion piece to the Third Rule! Its in Darry's POV, and make sure you read the notes if you go to read it! Its similar, but I really tried to give Darry his own voice and his own methods when dealing with assholes so hopefully its not too butchered.

 

Thank you loves, and hopefully the world isnt plunged into WWIII anytime soon.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are like weed so please pass that bowl. If you hated it, all I ask is that you give constructive criticism, dont be an asshole. 
> 
> Thanks!


End file.
